


Waypoint

by Patelia_Amelrick



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Bardottans, Dagoyan Order, F/M, Lorrdians, Thrawn vs Space Buddhist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22105159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patelia_Amelrick/pseuds/Patelia_Amelrick
Summary: An intermediate point on a line of travel. A stopping point. A point at which a course is changed.A failed Lorrdian novice from a reclusive monastery has gone into the greater galaxy to find a new purpose. However, her chosen home world of Lothal has become a hotbed of corruption, poverty, and violence while under Governor Pryce’s rule. A series of chance meetings over the years conspire to prove that Kadence’s life isn’t quite the failure she thought it was.**AU to my other fic “Progeny”**
Relationships: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am shamelessly poaching my OFC from Progeny to live on in Waypoint!  
> I had gotten into a rut with Progeny, it was...a bit too fantastical. I needed to write something I knew a little more about. You know, ‘write what you know’?  
> Well anyway, I don’t own diddly except for Kadence and maybe a couple of minor characters that might pop up here and there. I’m not making any profit off this either, just playing in an awesome universe and having some good times. 
> 
> Also, I will try to be good about updates. It’s all pretty much laid out in my head, just gotta put it on the computer screen!

Primeday 22:00  
The streets of Capital City stood empty at this time of night.  
Few citizens had business to conduct this late and most were naturally already in their homes, readying for sleep. The governor’s curfew took care of the rest, encouraging the night owls to keep indoors.

That was the main reason Kade didn’t mind when her shift rotated to third.  
It made the walk to work so much more peaceful.

She nodded to the evening patrols as she passed. They all recognized her at this point, but she kept her ID semi-visible just in case. 

Tonight she arrived at the gate to the Defense Complex without incident and flashed her badge to Reg, the same third-shift sentry she’d known for about a year. He waved her through with a professional, semi-friendly nod. 

Ten minutes of walking within the Complex got Kade to the locker room. She glanced at the wall Chrono (it was always five minutes fast) and changed into her orange jumpsuit and hooked her face mask onto her belt.  
Technically, it was only a requirement within certain assembly zones and during a fire/chemical emergency. But Kade noticed that most personnel preferred to wear them during the entire shift. 

A MASK IS MERELY A SHIELD BY ANOTHER NAME. 

“Morning, Kade!,” called a brusque, female voice.

PAT’A KEND.

A broad, middle aged woman, Pat’a Kend, had worked nearly fifteen years in the factories of Capital City. First in the foundries that processed the raw ore from the planet’s extensive mines, then in the defense complex itself. She was a Production Line Lead for one of the Sienar product lines that Kade supported. 

HER GREETING SOUNDED RUSHED. HER SKIN IS NOT FLUSHED AND THERE ARE TENSE LINES AT THE CORNERS OF HER EYES. PAT’A IS CONCERNED ABOUT SOMETHING ON THE LINE.

Kade raised an eyebrow at her coworker. 

“I think you need to check your internal chrono, Pat’a. Old age finally getting to you?”

Pat’a barked a laugh. “You watch yourself, whippersnapper! With age comes wisdom.”

“And senility.”

“Ha! Too true, too true!,” Pat’a winked. “By the way, did you see the message I sent late yesterday?” 

SO THERE WAS AN ISSUE ON THE LINE.  
Kade searched her memory as the two of them left the locker room. Sometimes it was difficult to keep up with all of the messages the various Lines sent, especially if they were in the middle of a big production push like this past week.

“About the Environmental testing for the 1500 series?”

“That’s the one.” Pat’a confirmed. 

“Well, we can’t outright skip it. The internal components need the same exposure to temp and pressure cycling as the fighter frame,” Kade said as they came to a long assembly bay.

“That’s what I figured,” Pat’a agreed. “We still need to move the product, though. We’re on contract for another two dozen this week.”

Kade frowned. “I know. Those lazy Hutts need to fix the damn lower level test chamber. But, I did submit for a test variance and if it goes through either today or tomorrow, we can build up the chassis but leave off the access panels during the first two cycles of Environmental. If it passes electrically and there’s nothing found at visual, then we can button her up and finish the test over at system level.”

Pat’a beamed. “You’re awesome! Did I ever tell you that?” 

Kade kept her eyes straight ahead and shrugged dismissively, uncomfortable with the praise. “Nah, just doing my job, Pat’a. Nothing special about that.”

***

The majority of the shift passed with no major mishaps.  
Pat’a and another Line lead, Davi, had only commed her a handful of times.

Kade stood next to the speeder bike engine sub-assembly line, watching as a tech walked through a recently updated assembly sequence. This wasn’t technically under her area of coverage, but the Line’s regular quality specialist was out on medical leave.  
Kde’s face shield fogged slightly at each exhale so she tilted her head slightly every now and then to compensate for the imparted vision.

The demonstration seemed to be was going well until a ripple of unease hushed the background chatter of the rest of the sub-assembly section.  
The tech lifted his head and gave a sharp exhale. “It’s Halla! What the Kriff does he want here?”

Kade’s lips pursed at the mention of the Ground Based Vehicle Programs Manager.  
Halla was a salesman and the sort to make overly ambitious promises about throughput to the higher ups at the expense of the Line workers. Last quarter there had been a handful of easily avoidable industrial accidents thanks to his reckless management.  
She twisted at the waist to watch his latest incursion onto the factory floor and felt her skin go both hot and cold.  
Halla, the idiot, was walking down the middle of an assembly line in what looked to be his dress uniform without any sort of facial or respiratory protection.  
What was worse...he had a visitor with him.

Apparently, Halla was giving a tour to some sort of officer the likes of which Kade had never seen. The stranger wore a white uniform and his skin was a striking shade of in-human blue.  
Kade didn’t know what to think of that. She had only ever heard of humans serving in today’s Imperial armed forces.  
She fully turned and took a step towards the tour.

“Quals, what are you doing?!” The tech hissed.

Kade did not take her eyes off of Halla.  
“Reminding them of the Build Area regulations and hopefully preventing an accident.” 

“But that’s Halla!” The tech whispered desperately. Program Manager Halla was known for his temper. 

“Yes, and right now he is in violation of basic safety protocol and he’s got some poor visitor with him.”

IF A PREVENTABLE ACCIDENT HAPPENS TO A VISITING OFFICER THEN THE FACTORY MAY GET WAY MORE ATTENTION THAN IT CAN HANDLE.

Kade left the engine area and skillfully slipped through the adjacent build areas until she was in front of Halla and his tour. 

He was just saying something about some pretty unreasonable sounding through-put of the line’s capacity when she interrupted.

“Excuse me, Programs Manager Halla.”

His sycophantic expression immediately soured even as his guest’s went from slightly bored to curious.  
“What do you want, specialist?” He spat.  
At least he had acknowledged her function as it was marked on her jumpsuit. 

“Sir, I need to ask that you and the...,” she glanced to the blue man’s rank plaque, surprised by what she saw, “admiral leave the area until you secure the appropriate protective equipment.”

“You, specialist, do not tell ME when to leave my own production line!”

“Sir, I must insist that you both leave the area at once,” Kade gestured to the floor’s hazard demarcations outlining the present build area. “Being in this area without a ventilated mask is in violation of defense industry safety protocols. There is the risk of exposure to corrosive fumes.” Kade explained firmly. 

Halla’s face began to turn splotchy as his embarrassment bled into anger.

The admiral stared directly at Kade.

“And you are?”

“She is no one of consequence ,Grand Admiral!,’ Halla rushed to say. “An insubordinate worker from another product line.”

The grand admiral held up a hand to cut off the tirade. 

“And YOU are?” He repeated the question.

Kade cleared her throat a bit nervously. Now a grand admiral would know her name so that he could demand her punishment in addition to whatever fresh hell Halla had in mind. 

“Quality Specialist I Kade Gabel, sir. TIE Line.”

“And for your impertinence, Gabel, said TIE line will likely be looking for a new QS by the end of shift!”

“Enough.” 

The quiet, durasteel of that single word killed the confrontation faster than a bucket of snow on hot coals.  
Kade glanced to the strange Admiral’s face.  
There was no impatience, no anger. He seemed...thoughtful.

WHY IS THAT EXPRESSION SO UNNERVING? 

“I believe I have seen enough of the production line at this time, Programs Manager. Let us adjourn to the Governor’s boardroom.”

Halla’s temper cooled somewhat, apparently going to the boardroom was a good sign for him. 

HE MUST BE WORKING ON A NEW DEFENSE PROJECT FOR THE NAVY.

A twinge of unease hit Kade’s stomach as the two senior men walked away. There was a real possibility Halla could make good on his threat to have her fired. The TIE Line had weak willed leadership despite constituting nearly 25 percent of the Complex’s throughput, hence all of the Testbed issues and shoestring support. 

Outspoken bootlickers like Halla frequently called the shots.

Kade sighed and gave the retreating backs, white and black, one last look. If she were lucky, she might keep her job long enough to tell Pat’a about the bizarre-looking grand admiral.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite short but more to follow!

“Krayt spit!”

Kade looked up from her data pad’s replay of Test Bed Cresh’s last environmental diagnostic.  
Test Technician Grant Jokk was shaking his head in disbelief as he tinkered with the test bed’s coolant valve. He had just heard Kade’s retelling of the morning’s events on the Bike Line.

“Which part exactly?” Kade asked, mildly curious as to which part of the story he found issue with.

Jokk waved a heavily modified spanner-looking tool carelessly.   
“There’s just no kriffing way the NAVY made an alien an admiral, first off. And if Halla wants us winning another contract, he’d better friggin’ figure out just where the kriff all that hardware is supposed to go! We’re already double and triple stacked in the queue here at Environmental!”   
The coolant valve suddenly hissed, emitting a noxious cloud of frigid steam. “Son of a Hutt’!”

Jokk jerked around the coolant line and frantically began adjusting something near the valve’s connection point. “They expect hardware to move when shit BREAKS all the kriffin time! Dumb asses! I told facilities about this stars forsaken leak TWO MONTHS ago!”  
Kade looked on in sympathy. She was officially there, ironically, to validate the Test Bed’s readiness after it’s last ‘repair’. In this factory the better test technicians were also ad hoc repairmen and poor Jokk had nursed the crippled Environmental test beds along for YEARS. 

“Seriously, Qualls,” he drawled, addressing Kade by the ubiquitous term for the Quality personnel. “I wouldn’t worry too much about what that idiot Halla says. They can’t afford to take you off the TIE line. They’d be at a dead stop since the only other Qualls they got with the right clearance only knows AT-ATs.”

Kade hummed noncommittally. She would be willing to bet her bottom credit that Halla would down the entire TIE line out of pure spite. 

“Damn it to hell!” 

Kade’s eyes shot back over to Jokk just in time to see a burst of cold steam escape the connection point and hear a disheartening thunk echo from inside Cresh’s housing. 

“Shit!,” Jokk stepped dejectedly around the coolant hose and ran a hand through his hair. “There goes the manifold.”

Kade groaned. Brand new coolant manifolds were not easy to come by and swapping them out took half a shift or more. She mentally ran through the forecasted WIP for this line and estimated the delay that the repair would cause. 

The program managers were going to love this development. 

Kade considered their options. There were a string of test beds over on the bike line that used the same type of coolant hoses. It was possible that the manifolds were the same too. 

“Hey Jokk, go ahead and start taking out the manifold. We might be able to borrow one while we wait for that one to get repaired.” 

Jokk’s mind was already flowing along the same lines as hers and he grimaced in sympathy. “Kriff. Good luck, Qualls.”

“Yeah, you too.” Kade closed down her datapad and left the test area, heading for the upper parts of the factory. She glanced to a wall chrono. She should have enough time to make the First Shift strategy meeting in the factory’s largest conference room (affectionately known as the “Rancor Pit”). So called because all of the factory’s program managers and, occasionally government observers, would be in attendance and would argue fiercely over resources and scheduling.   
Line support staff like herself only went to these meetings if something really BAD had happened or was about to happen. 

Good luck, huh? 

Kade slowed in the corridor as she saw Halla and one of his cronies enter the conference room just ahead of her. 

Yeah, she was going to need it.


	3. Chapter 3

“I do hope you have had a productive visit so far, Grand Admiral.” Defense Liaison Rad Tiller said as he gestured towards the open chairs of the conference room’s observation gallery. 

Grand Admiral Thrawn ignored the proffered seating and paused approximately an arm’s length from the viewport and appraised the scene below. 

The room was about ten meters long and half that wide with a v-shaped table already occupied by the various program managers and functional leaders. The factory Operations Manager sat at the table’s head, while those not important enough to warrant a seat but still necessary to provide updates or take notes were scattered along the walls presumably closest to the manager that they were most aligned with. 

A late arrival at the back of the room caught the Admiral’s eye. A female factory worker wedged herself in amongst the Test representatives. She received a couple friendly nods and a few questioning looks from her peers.

“There is more yet to be learned, Liaison Tiller. I will observe these proceedings before I make my final determination.”

Tiller bowed slightly. “Of course, sir.”

“Let us begin,” the Factory Operations Manager announced. Each production line reported their status in turn. The TIE line was last to go. The manager, a middle aged man with a submissive demeanor by the name of Brend, stood to give his status. 

“...and Environmental Test Bed Cresh should complete sell-off this morning.” He concluded.

“Very good,” the factory manager’s tone was one of dismissal. “If there is nothing else?”

“I have something!” 

Activity in the room stilled and the female worker stepped closer to the conference table. Thrawn could now see from her jumpsuit that she was a member of the Quality Assurance function. In fact, she was the same quality specialist that had intercepted his tour of the Bike Line several hours before.

The Operations Manager seemed annoyed at her interjection but motioned for her to continue nonetheless.  
“Proceed, Specialist.”

“Yes, sir. Environmental Test Bed Cresh cannot complete sell-off this morning. It’s coolant manifold just failed.”

A ripple of displeasure and unease swept through the gathering. “The TIE line will effectively be down unless we can sort out an immediate replacement. I think we can borrow a manifold from one of the bike line’s test beds.”

“Out of the question!” Roared program manager Halla. “You would down my line?! I have contracts to perform to!”

“The one manifold would not down the Bike line. It is ahead of it’s WIP forecast and has enough test beds to maintain that lead by adding a swing shift.”

“Those test beds are nothing like those at TIE. It’s unlikely that those manifolds would even work!”

“Each of the beds is fed by the same diameter coolant line. It’s possible that the manifold...”

“Enough! What sort of facts are you basing this all on, QUALITY Specialist?” Halla looked around the room at the Test managers. “Have the APPROPRIATE subject matter experts provided a failure report for the Test Bed? How do we even know that the manifold has actually failed?”

“The failure occurred less that an hour ago. There hasn’t been time to write a formal report yet.” The Specialist continued, frustration creeping into her voice.

Back in the gallery, Liaison Tiller shifted slightly drawing Thrawn’s piercing gaze for a moment. 

“Can we not send it out and wait for repair?” Brend interjected.

“The fastest repair cycle we’ve seen has been 120 days.” Continued Kade.

Another wave of unease swept the room. Such a delay would be potentially catastrophic.

Halla, however, seemed determined not to back down. 

“Again, I ask for FACTS. If the TEST personnel can confirm a true failure on the test bed,” He turned towards the Operations Manager. “We should open a corrective action investigation for how an entire test line could have been so poorly mismanaged.”

To her credit, the specialist’s face remained immobile, but had paled at the short-sighted program manager’s implications.

The Operations Manager nodded gravely.  
“That sounds reasonable. Test is to provide a report on Cresh’s status by end of day. The results of which will determine if corrective action will be taken. If that is all, this meeting stands adjourned.” 

The myriad functional leaders and managers began to disperse and shuffle towards the door.

“Specialist, you will remain please.” Called the Operations Manager. The young woman stood obediently beside the conference table, while Halla threw her an evil smirk on his way out. The operations manager waited until the room was empty before addressing her again.

“That was quite a scene you caused. Might I recommend that you refrain from elevation of such issues until they have been verified by the appropriate SME’s and your supervisor?” Admonished the Operations manager. He raised a hand towards the mirrored glass high above them. “You never know who may be watching.” The Specialist glanced upwards with a flash of her grey eyes and nodded stiffly. “Very well, if there is nothing else of consequence, then you may go. Quietly.”

Thrawn stood a long moment and stared at the door through which a small orange back had retreated.  
Liaison Tiller shifted his weight again in the oppressive silence. He was not used to an officer that talked so little and observed so much.

“Liaison Tiller,” The grand admiral called his attention quietly. Another unnerving difference between this Thrawn and other officers, noted Tiller. The man never raised his voice, ever.

“Sir?”

“The Defense Office within the Imperial Factory Complex has oversight of the Mission Assurance function does it not?” 

Tiller nodded. “Correct, sir. We manage the customer’s quality requirements as well as hardware quality. Pursuant to our contracts.”

Thrawn turned his head slightly, catching the other man’s eye.  
“And the personnel?”

Tiller hesitated.  
“Sir, if you are referring to the incident just now with specialist Kade, let me I assure you that such occurrences are atypical.”

Thrawn raised an eyebrow.  
“Atypical? The rest of your staff do not conduct themselves in such a manner?”

Tiller cleared his throat and weighed his words carefully. Truth be told, Kade was one of the best quality specialists they had. If the grand admiral had decided to be offended at her antics then the Factory stood to loose a great deal.

“Ah, no, sir. Specialist Kade is a definite anomaly.”

The admiral smiled coldly as he looked back down into the conference room.  
“Or rather, Liaison, a PERFECT anomaly.”


	4. Chapter 4

Kade was nervous.  
She felt it in her skipping heartbeat and the slight dampness on her palms.  
The Comm with the request to report to her supervisor’s office had come much earlier than expected.  
Normally when she would step on the program managers’ toes, she would get called in to the office after a day or so. Her supervisor would make sure that the managers knew she was being called in by setting the appointment time during lunch on first shift when the majority of personnel would be in the canteen (which stood between her supervisor’s office and the TIE line).

But this was different.

First, she had been called on the same day, during the same shift even. Second, there was no light hearted, back handed comment about the oversensitivity of program managers that usually accompanied these messages.

No, Kade had the distinct impression that she was well and truly in trouble. And in an Empire that had no qualms about imprisoning or even executing individuals for the slightest offense, there was plenty to be nervous about.

She only had to wait a handful of seconds at the door before being admitted. 

Liaison Tiller sat behind a desk piled with datapads and flimsiplast printouts. The chaos looked overwhelming but Kade knew that he could pluck any requested contract, defect report, or manifest from the stacks in under five seconds. 

“Good morning, specialist. I know how busy you are so thank you for stopping in,” he greeted somewhat warmly but the skin around his eyes remained tight. He was definitely upset.

“Is this about the manifold, sir?”

Tiller grimaced slightly and leaned back, the office’s lighting highlighting the grey in his hair.

“Not exactly, Specialist. Although there WAS an external observer in the gallery when you made your...presentation.”

Kade frowned. Was she to be reprimanded for potentially embarrassing the Factory’s leadership in front of a customer?

“Kade, what do you know about Grand Admiral Thrawn?” Tiller asked.

Kade watched his face and stiff posture, unsure of how she should answer. She had interacted with A grand admiral during the early part of her shift, but had no way of knowing for sure if he was this “Thrawn” that had her supervisor so concerned. 

“Not sure I would know him if I saw him to be honest.”

Tiller huffed a laugh and smirked. “Believe me, you’d know.” He held out a slim datacard. “Take this and review the contents. You have an appointment with the Admiral at 13:00. A mouse droid will direct you.” Kade took the card, a dubious look on her face. “I’m afraid that is all I can tell you at he moment.”

Kade’s mind reeled. 13:00?! She was supposed to be off her shift and asleep at home by then! 

“You may have tomorrow off to catch up on rest if you need.” He continued.

She nodded. “Right. Well, I guess I will go look this over, then.” She turned an left the office heading for one of the few quiet spots in the TIE area, ruefully glancing at a wall chrono as she went. She had to hurry. 13:00 was less than six hours away and there was no telling how much data was on the card. 

***

12:30 Centaxday

Kade stood outside an impressive doorway (complete with stormtrooper) in an equally impressive corridor. The polished floors gleamed and the air was hushed with the aura of many very important people doing very important things.  
Kade half expected Governor Pryce and her retinue to suddenly appear around a corner.

The minutes ticked by and she reveled in the near silence while she waited. Kade’s mind was crammed with all of the information from that data card and she had worked a very eventful shift just before. 

She probably would take Tiller’s offer for day off. Her nerves felt frayed.

The stormtrooper shifted, armor clacking loudly in the quiet. Kade instantly focused on him, belatedly realizing that she had closed her eyes while resting. Wonder what the stormtrooper thought of this random factory worker falling asleep in the middle of the corridor.

“You can go in,” Came the filtered voice (with a hint of humor) as he hit the door release.

“Er, thank you.” She replied nervously.  
The entryway was dimly lit and stretched to about four meters before opening up into a proper office.  
It was midday and despite the windows’ built in dimming, Kade’s eyes were drawn to their brightness rather than to the individual seated behind the large, austere desk.

She watched the glimmer of the sun on the city’s many towers and traced the resulting shadows between. Her hearing going dim as she processed this new, more welcome stimulus.  
***  
The TIE line’s Quality Specialist had arrived half an hour early. Punctuality reflected favorably on her, but one suspected she had not allowed herself enough time to thoroughly review the datacard’s contents.  
Once inside the office, she had stood transfixed by the scene outside the viewport. Her expression neutral and her eyes large as she stared at the cityscape.

“Good day, Specialist.” Thrawn greeted perhaps a bit more loudly that strictly necessary in an attempt to summon his guest’s attention.

The specialist’s large eyed stare snapped to him, pupils widening to better see his backlit form, and yet her facial expression did not change. Thrawn’s many years of dealing with humans had taught him that typically human’s caught staring or not paying attention generally “blushed”, increasing their facial glow dramatically. The specialist’s glow was unchanged.

The admiral’s eyes narrowed. That was unexpected.

“Hello, Grand Admiral.” She replied to his greeting a beat too slow. She held out a slim datacard. The motion unnaturally slow. Was she fatigued? “I finished this as instructed.”

Thrawn leaned back and steepled his fingers. The specialist would need to demonstrate the ability to work through extreme work schedules. 

“Indeed? Let us test what you have learned from it.”

He began a barrage of questions that not only covered the span of the data contained on the card, but also demanded critical interpretation of the information.  
The specialist answered calmly and accurately, even asking her own questions depending on her need for clarification.

“Now, then,” Thrawn continued, quite satisfied and impressed that she had indeed read everything on the datacard. “Give me your opinion of this project.”

The specialist seemed to consider for a moment.  
“The premise is sound since Lambda shuttles are similarly self-sufficient. Going to such lengths for single pilot survivability is a bit...odd.” She trailed off glancing to the side.

“A question, specialist?” Thrawn prompted.

“Yes, just...how in skies did you convince anyone of the return on investment?” Her grey eyes refocused on him and seemed sharper than before. 

Thrawn raised an eyebrow. “You seem to have a firm grasp of the rather mercenary environment of the defense industry. However, suffice to say this project has significant patronage from Coruscant itself.” He reached into his left breast pocket and withdrew a code cylinder. “This project requires the utmost secrecy and attention to detail. Each credit, each hour is essential to the life-blood of the program and the ultimate survival the galaxy. They cannot be wasted.” Thrawn extended his hand, offering the cylinder. 

Kade stared at the small, silver tube. She knew how important code cylinders were, they held the most confidential information and granted the highest level of access. Even the factory’s Operations manager only had ONE cylinder. 

And this Grand Admiral was GIVING her one of his!

“Sir, no...I couldn’t possibly...cylinders are for super important, high ranked people!” She floundered desperately. Waving her hands as if the code cylinder were an evil talisman to be warded off. 

Thrawn smiled thinly. “Ah, specialist, but you are. You are to report to the Chimaera in twelve hours time as my new Program Quality Lead. Welcome to the TIE Defender Project.”

The Chimaera? That was a star destroyer wasn’t it? Did that mean space travel?! Twelve hours? That was only time for a nap, quick shower, and packing. Wait, Program Quality LEAD?! She was a LEAD now?! 

Kade was peripherally aware that Thrawn was still holding out the cylinder for her to accept. She reached out to take the precious object and just barely felt the tips of his blue fingers graze hers.

Kade sensed the oncoming tremor milliseconds before it happened. She brought her hand back quickly and assumed a normal posture, bracing her shoulders. A shudder travelled up her spine, rocked her shoulders back and forth and tried to toss her head painfully to the side. Bracing kept the movement minimal, but could do nothing for the skin crawling that moved up and down her face and arms in pulsing waves.  
Embarrassed beyond words, she kept her eyes fixed on the windows so that she would not have to see the Grand Admiral’s expression.  
***  
Thrawn was admittedly taken aback by the specialist’s behavior. She had snatched the code cylinder from his grasp and then shuddered with apparent revulsion, refusing to look at him in her pique. 

Had he misread her apparent interest in joining the project? 

Thrawn stared openly. Picking up faint hints of the specialist’s once steady glow fluctuating rapidly. Clearly, she was very upset by today’s turn of events.  
Somewhat disappointed, he dismissed her. He supposed that it didn’t really matter in the long run. Specialist Gabel was the best option for his Defender project, whether she liked it or not.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COVID lifestyle is so depressing....  
> Also, I edited part of this chapter...it was cringe worthy

Commander Karyn Faro was a no-nonsense woman of slightly above average height. She constantly assessed her immediate environment for deficiencies in people and equipment. Twinges of satisfaction and displeasure chased each other across her face like clouds across a plain depending on where her brown eyes fell.  
She had spirit and was refreshingly blunt in her expressions.

Kade liked her immediately.

Faro had met Kade as soon as the shuttle had landed in the Chimeara’s hanger.  
And what a hanger! It was not as large as the Factory’s high volume bay where the large cargo modules were loaded, but it was still expansive and hinted at the incredible hugeness of the overall ship. Kade was in awe.

“Specialist, I have been instructed to take you to your quarters and show you the officers’ mess for now. You will be retrieved shortly after for your security briefing.” Faro glanced down to her datapad then over at Kade. “Any questions?”

“Not yet, Commander,” Kade said, eyes still roving over the military grade clean surfaces. Was she really going to live HERE for the next six months? “,but that will probably change.”

Faro smirked at some sort of private joke. “Oh, it definitely will on this ship. Follow me and don’t worry about the rest of your things. The droids will take them to your quarters.”

“Uh, they don’t have to bother,” Kade hefted the large, well worn duffel on her back. “This is everything.”  
Faro paused and blinked, “You mean that’s IT?”  
It was odd for a civilian woman to carry so little.

Kade just shrugged.  
The Commander came back to the task at hand. “Ok...well anyway, this is the main hanger as you can see. I’ll point out other major parts of the ship as we go.”

They set off through the bowels of the star destroyer. Kade wasn’t completely sure, but they seemed to be more or less following a ventral line. There were a few turbo lift rides that left her feeling slightly dizzy despite the inertial compensators in the lift system.

Just how big WAS this ship?!

Several corridors later, they arrived in a block of junior officer’s quarters. Faro stopped in front of a door seemingly at random.

“Here we go.” She keyed the door release. “Home sweet home.”

Kade stepped inside. It was an efficient little room with a single berth and computer terminal. There was a door going off one side.

“That’s the fresher,” Faro supplied. “There are storage compartments placed around the bunk.”

Kade nodded absently and let the duffle slide onto the bed. It was certainly more room than she thought would be afforded to her on a warship where space was at such a premium. She had expected to have at least one bunk mate.

Faro hesitated a moment before speaking. Apparently, Kade’s constant, absorptive silence had already begun to unsettle the Commander a bit.

“Well, then, it’s the officer’s mess next.”

Towards the end of the corridor was a fitness area that Faro also pointed out. Kade nodded again out of politeness. She had already smelled faint traces of the stale sweat (that no cleaning agent could ever seem to eradicate) about two paces from her door.  
The Commander mentioned something about how she should take advantage of the area as she was not used to the crammed conditions of ship life. Apparently, it helped one forget that they were essentially packed into a durasteel coffin with only a thin veneer separating the souls onboard from the lifeless black outside.  
Kade’s heart rate started to increase and she felt the slight pricking sensation of activated sweat glands on her palms. She forcefully tried to push down such alarming thoughts. They would not help her here. She was stuck. Well...stuck for NOW.

There was a possibility that the Admiral would tire of her quirks and send her packing back to the factory. Back to her teammates and her work. She tugged slightly at the new silver lanyard around her neck. The motion was soothing, reminding her of a different time when a strand of 108 beads would have been in its place.  
Until the day of potential emancipation, perhaps she could live in this unnatural death trap if she pretended that the endless grey corridors were instead carved from living stone, safe within the bedrock?

The security briefing was held by the chief security officer’s adjutant, a disagreeable man that had spent quite a lot of time on Coruscant judging by his accent. After about an hour of grueling questions, she was released to head back to her quarters and given a datapad keyed to her personnel ID.  
Kade logged into her profile and was surprised by an alert. A meeting with the Grand Admiral and the Chimeara’s TIE wing commander, a fellow named Skerris, was already in place for that evening.

She raised her eyebrows.  
Contrary to the bureaucrats running the Factory, the Grand Admiral, apparently worked at a breakneck pace.

***

Early again...but, only by fifteen minutes this time.

Grand Admiral Thrawn considered the contradiction offered up by the specialist’s behavior. Typically, beings arrive early to a favorable task and as late as possible to an unfavorable one. Had she not shuddered with revulsion at the prospect of working with him less than a standard rotation ago?

Regardless, the Defender Program needed her. According to her personnel files and his brief discussion with Liaison Tiller, Specialist Gabel possessed an uncanny level of attention to detail and was, above all else, extremely competent. Naturally, such traits would be expected in a Quality Assurance member, but tell-tale evidence of Gabel’s other, more...irregular attributes had ultimately cemented Thrawn’s decision.

He tapped a switch on his console. A few moments later, the specialist appeared in his office. Her eyes quickly swept the through the room, taking in the art displays before settling on him. She appeared much less distracted at this meeting.

Thrawn tried to determine her thoughts by reading her expression and posture, but every facet seemed neutral. There was just a hint of bland curiosity on her face as she played with a concealed pendant on her silver necklace. Even her glow was subdued.

“Good evening, Specialist Gabel, I trust you found your quarters satisfactory?” He asked politely.

A sudden, dull flare appeared at the Specialist’s cheek bones.

“Yes, thank you. I was not expecting a room to myself.” She replied with equal politeness. There was no trace of emotion in her voice nor any change in her facial expression or posture to coincide with the change in her facial glow. How odd.

“If it’s not too much trouble, though,” she continued. “you don’t have to call me that. My coworkers always called me Qualls. It’s less of a mouthful when you’re trying to get someone’s attention out on the Floor.”

Thrawn regarded her evenly. She was passing up on an honorific for professional expediency and had no interest in employing her given name for a false sense of intimacy. How refreshing.

“I do not believe it will pose a problem....Qualls.”

The blandness partially melted from her face. “Thank you, sir.”

Thrawn nodded then glanced to his console.

“Ah, it appears Commander Skerris has arrived.” Precisely on time, he added to himself.

The Chimera’s TIE Commander swept into the office. His larger than life personality occupying all of the negative space.

“Good evening, Grand Admiral!”

The change in...Qualls’ facial glow was immediate. It took a great deal of the admiral’s self control to not openly stare at the patterns flitting over the young woman’s face.

Before she had the two simple spots of warmth at her cheeks. Now, her eyes glowed brighter and there were two streaks of darkening skin that spread from the cheek bones to the chin.

Thrawn was intrigued. He had never seen this degree of glow patterning on a human’s face before. Her records did indicate that she was not from Lothal originally. Was it possible that she was not a full-blooded baseline human?

The set of her features had not changed at all and Skerris was oblivious to the fact that his presence had caused such a reaction.

“Commander, may I introduce the new Quality Lead for the TIE Defender Project: Specialist Kade Gabel. Specialist Gabel, Commander Vult Skerris.”

Skerris flashed a charming smile and bowed to the much smaller Specialist, reaching out a hand to take one of hers, presumably to kiss the back of it. “A pleasure, Miss Gabel.”

The degree of glow and shadow on her face increased and Qualls kept her hands folded around the hidden pendant.

“Just Qualls if you please, Commander.” The tone was polite, but reserved.

Skerris laughed. “Qualls?”

“That is the Specialist’s preference and we will of course honor it, commander.” Thrawn cut in, quietly.

Skerris straightened immediately at the thinly veiled reprimand. “Yes, sir.”

“Now then,” the grand admiral tapped at another switch on his console. A large hologram of a ship, a starfighter, appeared in the space between the desk and his guests. To one side were a set of vital statistics. The Empire’s standard TIE fighter’s numbers in blue, the new TIE Defender’s target numbers in gold. “As you can see, the goal before us is lofty one. The aim is to create a fighter based on the TIE’s template that has overwhelming speed, agility...”

“And firepower.” Cut in Skerris, excited at the prospect of improved offensive ability.

“Indeed, commander.” Thrawn was already well aware of Skerris’ enthusiastic if narrow minded support for the Defender. But what was the initial estimation from Qualls?

He studied her face as she stared at the holo. Her odd glow pattern had settled somewhat, only her eyes staying bright. Qualls dropped her stare from the numbers to the edge of the desk, deep in thought.

“We will need a full field study of the current TIE line.” She declared quietly.

Skerris frowned at her, surprised. “Field study?! Whatever for? The current TIE has been in service for over a decade.”

“Yes, but no pilot has flown a TIE this complex before.” A valid point.

Skerris shrugged, ignoring her concern. “Nothing my squadron can’t handle. You just worry about getting it built, Miss Qualls. We’ll take care of the rest.”

The violent glow pattern flared to life again and just as before Qualls’ expression betrayed nothing.

“Establishing a baseline of the craft and its pilots may prove useful, commander.” She rebutted, glow deepening.

“Unnecessary, if you ask me. This is a warship, Miss Qualls. I’m not sure what you got up to planetside, but we don’t have time to dance around doing a bunch of academic dissertations,” scoffed the TIE commander.

Qualls eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. It seemed that she was ready to share her feelings of displeasure or perhaps her irritation had increased beyond her ability to conceal.

“I will leave the decision to him,” she nodded to Thrawn sharply, angrily. “This is the Grand Admiral’s project. Its success is his responsibility.”

“Indeed,” Thrawn interjected. Qualls’ more or less valid impatience with Skerris aside, the admiral decided it was perhaps wise to cut this introductory meeting short before either of the attendees said something that would permanently damage their ability to work together. “Thank you, Commander, you are dismissed. I will speak with the specialist about the feasibility of such a study being conducted on a ship of the line. For as you say, we are at war.”

Skerris saluted and left, expression teetering towards confusion.

Once the door closed, Thrawn waited several seconds, letting the silence grow. He stared at the specialist. He knew most humans could not bear the weight of his red eyes for long.

Soon she would grow uncomfortable, likely blush and perhaps drop her gaze. She would then mumble some half-hearted excuse out of embarrassment.

The specialist simply stared back. Her gray eyes shining silver in the light of the holo.

They remained that way. Qualls’ glow shifted once more: the dark streaks were lightening and spreading so that her face seemed to resemble an ancient helmet’s face-guard: Brow and cheeks darker, eyes and mouth brighter.

“Balls for brains.”

***

The admiral’s eyes widened then narrowed and Kade thought she saw his cheeks purple a bit. It was a little hard to tell in the dimmer light of the office.

“I beg your pardon?” He forced between stiff lips.

Had she managed to ruffle him? Kade felt a twinge of pride about that.

“I said, fighter pilots only think with the testosterone producing parts of their anatomy.”Thrawn raised an eyebrow and leaned back slightly. There was exasperation, but also mild amusement. “Yes, I thought you did. Enlighten me as to the reasoning behind so harsh a conclusion.”

Kade scoffed with a cross of her arms. “I can see why he dogfights for a living. That man is terminally short sighted.”

“‘That man’ is a commander in the Imperial Navy.” The admiral pointed out.

Kade shrugged. She didn’t really care.

“Liaison Tiller did warn me about your blatant disregard for rank, but I did not expect to see it this plainly displayed so soon.” Thrawn retorted wryly, prodding for a self-conscious reaction.‘You can always send me back to the Factory.’ Kade thought snidely. This grand admiral had insisted on recruiting her and leaving her poor TIE line without an immediate replacement quality specialist. She felt a twinge of worry in her gut for Pat’a, Jokk and Brend. Liaison Tiller had looked especially defeated when he had signed her transfer papers.

The admiral reached to his console and tapped a switch with a flick of his long fingers.

The TIE fighter hologram blinked away to be replaced with an enlarged set of documents. Kade read the reversed letters in the header and felt her eyes narrow. This was her personnel file.

Thrawn steepled his fingers. “I see that you hold a Certificate of Completion from the New Dagoyan University of Phu.”

It was a rhetorical statement so Kade said nothing. Either the Grand Admiral was completely ignorant of what the NDUP was and was just reading factoids off her file or he was winding up for a snide comment about not attending a 'Human' institution. Kade braced herself. She'd dealt with such remarks for years.

“Impressive.”

Kade raised a disbelieving eyebrow, but there wasn't any duplicity in the admiral's posture or facial set. His eyes were still focussed on the file and not on Kade herself, uncaring about her reaction to his words.

Apparently, he was giving her a genuine compliment.

"You'd be the first outside of the Colonies to think so," she countered suspiciously.

The admiral tilted his head as he considered her words. “The University’s Cultural Studies programs are quite renowned." His red eyes shifted to her. "I find Keezon’s published discourse on anthropomorphic cultural analysis particularly engaging.”

Kade huffed out a shocked little laugh. This meeting just went from potentially career ending to totally bizarre. Just what sort of admiral was he?

She studied his face again, lingering on his eyes and the tips of his ears.

He was still telling the truth.

"Doubtful," she replied. "Keezon's works are so dry you could use them for a spill kit."

Thrawn's lips twitched with suppressed humor.

"Perhaps, but they are insightful nonetheless." He settled back in his chair and steepled his fingers. His right ankle came to rest on his left knee. "I take it you are familiar with his works?"

Kade blinked at the very CASUAL posture. The admiral's gaze was just as intense as ever, not sinister, just...ENGAGED.

Grand Admiral Thrawn was giving her his FULL attention.

Kade tilted her head slightly as if thinking.

"I know OF them, sure. The really sadistic professors would assign them periodically," she shrugged. "Kept the fear of the One in the underclassmen. Cultural perturbations in mid-rim, humanoid mining colonies of the the last 500 years just doesn't really reach out and grab the imagination.”

The admiral raised an eyebrow, expression turning sardonic.

"Indeed? Permit me to disagree.” He tapped at another key on his console and Kade’s datapad pinged. She glanced down and her eyes widened at the size of the file Thrawn had sent her. “Keezon’s treatise on his methodology. In four parts.”   
Kade skimmed the table of contents and frowned. It was all about field work. She shot the admiral a questioning glance.

Thrawn smirked. “I will review your draft of the field study plan at the end of the week. You are dismissed.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please reread chapter 5. I rewrote the second half to be less cringe worthy and this chapter will make a bit better sense...

For three days Kade stayed cocooned in her quarters, her own pocket dimension comprised of Keezon's abstractions on behavioral theory. As the treatise was written in the Corriscanti style (to be more accessible to a wider academic audience was Kade's guess), it was straightforward enough to skim through and pick out the theses of each section.

Half of the scholar's assertions made her laugh out loud. He hadn't accounted for his own gender bias AT ALL!

This oversight lead to some fairly slanted writing.

Kade really hoped that the Admiral did not truly BELIEVE everything Keezon wrote. It would certainly spark some terrible arguments.

The rest of the treatise was not a total loss. It did give her ideas about how to pass off her own methods as tools of a formalized field study. The introspective reactions to Keezon felt like taking a turn down a favorite pathway. Stretching her legs for the sake of it rather than running a hectic race as she had for the past four years. It was like she was back at Univerity again.

A low ping from the datapad pulled her back to reality.

She was sitting on a synth-fiber berth, not a wooly futon. She was in a set of durasteel quarters on a warship, not a rockhewn dormitory.

Kade took a deep breath and blinked at her small room. She felt the crushing disappointment at living in a flying deathtrap all over again.

Why couldn't people be sensible and actually live ON planets?

She glanced at the datapad.

A half hour schedule alert for the follow up meeting with the Admiral...had it already been three days?

Kade stretched briefly, joints popping from disuse (there was no telling how long she had been sitting on the bunk since her last Fresher break), then changed into less wrinkled clothes. She might wish that she was still at Uni, but she doubted the Admiral (all crisp uniform and perfect hair) would appreciate her 'slumming' around as if she were. She quickly re-tied her hair and put on her shoes.

****

Fifteen minutes early again....

Thrawn speculated whether this was simply the quality specialist's default arrival time to meetings.

Unlike the last time, he was standing to the side of his desk and had been studying a recently acquired moss painting of Lothal's canyon lands. Governor Pryce’s martial law mandates had ensured access to the best examples of Lothal’s art. One positive outcome of the Rebel infested sector.

He permitted her entry and carefully watched her from the corner of his eye as she approached.

She had a lighter step than anticipated in her flat shoes. She had worn heavy workboots in the Factory and onto the ship. He doubted many of his human crew would have been able to detect her approach.

Her clothing was once again utilitarian in form and color. The boxy cut of the tunic hid her figure completely. The silver chain, more of a lanyard, with its pendant (he was pleased to see it was the code cylinder he had assigned her) ruined the androgynous effect by weighing down the fabric of her chest slightly. 

No paint nor powder that he could detect and the only ornamentation was the subtle, over ear cuffs he had barely taken note of during her initial interview. They were of an intriguing design in that they extended over the ear's auditory canal and were often hidden beneath the specialist’s hair. He could only guess at their purpose.

Said hair was just as simply treated, pulled to the nape of her neck in a loose tail-bun.

Overall, the specialist gave the impression of a moth: unassuming and silent.

It made the Grand Admiral wonder why she went to such lengths to fade into the background.

"Good evening, Quals."

She slowed her approach slightly at the sight of him and wore the same look of bland curiosity as in their previous meeting.

"Hello, sir." She frowned at her datapad. "I suppose it REALLY is evening, isn’t it?"

Thrawn quirked an eyebrow at her. "Still adjusting to ship time, I see."

"’Time’, indeed,” Kade huffed slightly as she mimed quotation marks. “No sun, no seasons." Her eyes shifted to the moss painting longingly.

The admiral tilted his head slightly. Almost a full week on board and the quality specialist still hated it. That would not do.

"'Let the Lights of the Heavens discern Night from Day, let the Lights of the Heavens o'er Seasons sway.'" he recited softly.

Her eyes snapped to his, facial glow increasing substantially.

"M'urak'i's 'Entropy'?'" she identified. "’Dess, Admiral, you know POETRY, too?!" 

Thrawn favored her with a wry smirk.

"To defeat an enemy you must know them. Their history, philosophy...art."

Kade's eyebrows lifted slightly with not quite amazement. Then her expression relaxed into an unfathomable stare which she then turned onto the four walls of his office...most likely taking stock of his most recent displays in light of this new information.

Commander Faro had been on the receiving end of such a look during Kade's orientation and it had unnerved the commander enough for her to mention it to him. Perhaps this was the specialist’s facial expression when she was at her most attentive? Odd that it didn’t mirror the earnestness that he was used to seeing in his own troops.

"Caf, Quals?"

Kade blinked slowly as if waking from a dream and the admiral was reminded of her dazed behavior in his office on Lothal. "Pardon?"

Thrawn turned with a sweeping gesture towards his desk. A carafe and two cups stood innocently by. Kade blinked at them, fully coming back to herself. Her nose twitched.

"Would you care for a cup? It will help facilitate the review of your field study draft, I’m sure."

Kade shot him a cool look with a raised eyebrow. It was a nearly perfect imitation of his own expression. His lips twitched, hiding his smile.

"Unlike Keezon, I don't drone on and on forever just to fill pages,” Kade all but scolded. “My drabbles tend to be succinct. The caf won't be necessary, but," there was spark of humor in her eyes. "it will be much appreciated."

*****

Thrawn had to concede. Kade, true to her word, did not belabor the point in her report. The only nod to Keezon had been to place references to relevant pages from the treatise.

He asked pointed questions to test that she had actually read it and was once more impressed with her level of recall.

"If I understand correctly, you wish to conduct interviews with the pilots and maintenance crews BEFORE looking at the flight recorder data and consulting with Commander Skerris?," he asked, fingers steepled under his chin as he leaned back in his command chair.

"Exactly." Kade sat forward, hands wrapped around a steaming cup of caf. The shimmer of which distorted the glow patterning on the specialist's face, annoying the Admiral no end. He had found that she was nearly impossible to read without it.

"Your reasoning?," he shifted to lean on his elbow, feigning a more casual posture to better allow him to see around the steam. 

Kade took a sip from her cup and from his new vantage point he could tell her face warmed with the pleasure of the flavor and not just the caf itself.

"The commander would limit the pool of participants and the reports could bias the gathering of new data. Neither source will ultimately be discounted. I do want his input and access to the data. Just not right now. I need to speak with techs that maintain the hardware for their seasoned opinion of the TIE and the pilots that are still green enough to not lie about it."

Thrawn raised an eyebrow. An interesting argument. Cynical, but well reasoned.

"That should be allowable. However, I am curious about this next phase you proposed...review of live audio?"

Flight data recorders that took a combination of video and audio of a ship's bridge were commonplace, but Kade's proposition was certainly unorthodox. She wanted to listen on an open, one-way comm channel during combat and training maneuvers. 

"Why not just use audio from a flight sim?" he asked, but he felt knew the answer.

Kade shrugged.

"Two problems: sims are never like real life and everyone in the sim KNOWS it's a sim. That's sort of the point, really. Fail in the sim and you try again tomorrow. You'd see REAL behaviors out there." she waved to the side to indicate the environment outside the Chimeara.

Thrawn eyed her carefully for a moment. Thus far, Kade had never presented herself as being particularly naive. Did she understand the ramifications of this course of action? Listening to live combat?

"Quals, I must ask, do you understand, FULLY understand, what you are requesting access to?" he asked, gravely.

His quality specialist sat a little straighter.

"You mean the dying?" she clarified, quietly.

Thrawn paused.

"It is not a question of if, but when one or more of them will be killed in combat. You will be listening as these men lose their lives suddenly and violently. Before I agree to your proposal, I want you to think this over thoroughly," he paused. Kade's bottomless stare was back. "This must be your choice."

That caught the specialist's attention, stirring her partially from her trance.

"My choice?," she laughed bitterly. "Admiral, you made the choice for me when you signed my transfer papers."

The admiral sighed as he dropped his gaze to his desk.

So, she had finally verbalized it. She DID deeply resent her reassignment to the Defender Project just as he suspected. The durasteel in his spine maintained that it didn’t matter, whether she wanted to be there or not. The Project needed her talents. It was as simple as that. Still, he couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment.

"Will it save lives?"

"Pardon?" Thrawn looked up from the desk's surface.

"The Defender. It has shields, a hyperdrive. Will it save lives?" Kade pressed, the weight of her stare now directed at him.

Thrawn considered her phrasing. How, unlike Commander Skerris and Moff Tarkin and the Emperor, Specialist Gabel’s concern was for how the craft would preserve rather than destroy.

He saw no reason to give a long winded account of estimates and the philosophy behind remote strike capability. The Specialist appreciated brevity.

"Yes."

Kade relaxed slightly, glancing to the moss painting once more. "Then,” she flashed a bittersweet smile. “I will do everything I can to make it so."


End file.
